To The Victor Goes The Spoils
by Samayel
Summary: The faculty of Hogwart's enjoys some highly questionable leisure activity.


To The Victor Goes The Spoils...by Samayel

Sundays were a prized event for the staff of Hogwart's School, in large part because they were permitted at differing hours to relax and take their own leisure while the children enjoyed well deserved time away from their schoolwork. Of course, duties as attendants were still doled out, but in such a way that for a few hours each Sunday every member of the faculty could make some time for themselves as well as for their numerous duties.

Needless to say, each Sunday the various teachers fled for either privacy or for time in the faculty lounge, a place feared and dreaded by the student body, spoken of in hushed whispers and said to be warded to a fare-thee-well! On this particular Sunday no less than half the staff had made its way to the comforts of the lounge, availing themselves of house elf servants, fine refreshments and well appointed furnishings, as well as recent periodicals both Muggle and Wizarding alike.

Severus Snape sat in a large and sumptuous chair, newspaper irritably clutched in hands and obscuring his usual disgruntled expression. Trelawney was peering through her enormous glasses at the contents of her teacup, ostensibly divining something, although with her it could rarely be told what. Minerva McGonagall was scanning a large and heavily Charmed map of the school and its grounds, while Professor Flitwick and a handful of others were engaged in a quiet game of cards...although Flitwick had slowed things down a bit since he needed a bit of time and effort to drag the cards about by hand, which he inexplicably insisted on doing each time he played, when a handy spell might have sped things along considerably.

Minerva observed the chart...which had been linked carefully to the castle's magic wards and protections...and observed a tiny flash of information which she dutifully wrote down. In an offhanded manner she announced her findings. "I believe we have a permissible incident involving Boot and Finnegan...in the area designated B-11! Do please take note all."

The others present distractedly made adjustments to the cards near them. Snape snorted derisively from behind his newspaper and muttered, "Appalling. Hormonal brats."

Several minutes later a new tiny flash flickered upon the map. It had been originally spelled to aid in ensuring that students weren't leaving school grounds, but the spells upon it were ancient and fading, and it had since be 'repurposed'. The Marauder's Map, had it been known to the staff, would have been far more prized, but alas they did not know of its existence. Just the same, Minerva jotted careful notes and alerted the others. "It would seem that there is something only slightly inappropriate taking place between Longbottom and Corner in the Owlery...that would be the designated area for O-35."

Cards were adjusted and the quiet revelry in Sunday peace and comfort continued, with only a hiss of irritation from Severus Snape. "Unconscionable! Tolerance for tomfoolery breeds more of the same!"

In truth, the issue was one of merely making sure that only the older students got up to mischief appropriate for their age, and that the younger years did not. Had the staff devoted their every waking moment to ensuring that not one youthful couple found a moment of romantic bliss, there would have been no time left to teach anything. It was really a matter of targeted effort, though some were less forgiving on the subject of adolescent exuberance than others. Sundays, being a day of study or indolence for students, tended to be the most active day for potential infractions...and while they had collectively done their duty...certain odd traditions had cropped up.

Some minutes passed in silence before the map flashed again...and this time Minerva, normally unflappable even under the most extreme duress, dropped her quill and muttered a wildly inappropriate phrase before regaining her composure. The others looked up as one, except Snape, wondering what could have affected her so.

"Oh dear. I'm so terribly sorry. Inexcusable outburst, I know, but I simply did NOT see that one coming! Ahem...well...how to put this. It appears that an unused broom closet on the second floor has, mmm, shall we say, become occupied...by Potter and Malfoy of all people!"

Trelawney warbled, "The numbers, Minerva, the location! What of the location?"

McGonagall quickly entered them into the log and announced the results. "That would be the area designated as N-29. See that you all make note of it."

Trelawney frowned with discouragement, muttering about the thickness of the aether making any forecast unusually difficult, but it was Snape who finally snapped his newspaper shut and vented his temper.

"Can we not engage in these childish games? I cannot begin to grasp how we could have fallen so low, become so lacking in decency, that we could embrace something as puerile and repugnant as this...this...disgusting pastime!"

Minerva was about to retort hotly...when Snape looked at the card he hadn't been attending. Just as the words were about to fly from her tongue, he interrupted her with an abashed look upon his face.

"Also...BINGO."

Minerva steamed at the hypocrisy of it all. "Really, Severus! If you despise these small amusements so much, why do you even bother to play."

Severus sniffed distractedly. "Honestly, I could almost bring myself not to care, but I believe I'm due 37 Galleons. It would greatly reduce my displeasure if you could at the least name the game something OTHER than Boy on Boy Bingo!"

FIN


End file.
